


Cross My Heart

by asahinayuuta



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-10
Updated: 2015-03-10
Packaged: 2018-03-17 07:27:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3520595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asahinayuuta/pseuds/asahinayuuta
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Mukuro-san, do you l-like me?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cross My Heart

Her beauty is just one trait, sadly, a trait most examined by the public (not counting where she is from). She has much more than just beauty, one of the best things is that a trait you will hold in your back pocket and keep forever because it means more to you anything else. She accepted you. She cares about you. She makes you feel better. She can cheer up anyone, she could choose anyone she wanted to spend an evening with, and it was you. 

She gives you strength, a reason, confidence. She makes you feel better, not only about yourself, but others, nature, everything. She is more than just a friend to you. You don’t want to admit it, but you know that, that feeling tossed, the feeling ignored, may be the feeling you are feeling now. 

That thought, it doesn’t make you worry, but it doesn’t give you pleasure. You think that thought, that feeling, it might be the right answer, but you wonder, is it even possible. Possible for you to have such feelings, for someone so incredible. For someone worth so much. Possible for her to even love you back? 

You are unsure of how to feel, all you are sure of is that she will be here soon, here to take you to the park in which you find solitude and comfort, the park in which you two had first met. 

When she comes, you hear a light “knock” at the door, then again, and again. You say, “One minute”, and the noise stops. Your face is red and you need it to stop, the emotion to stop. Once you regain control yet again, and the aching in your heart starts, you ready to leave. 

When you exit, you see her standing, in her beautiful, casual wear, or what is casual to her, a princess. You know that she deserves better than you, and probably only thinks of you and her as friends. And although this thought burns you to your veins, it sounds more true than anything else you’ve ever heard (then again, your life is full of lies). 

Her dress ends mid-thigh, and although you were never one for super short dresses, or skirts in general (although you have to wear one for school), you still think she is beautiful, and the feeling in your heart continues to cause distress and gripe your heart, pull and tug. 

She greets you with a smile, something you so adore when coming from her. Her heart is full of good intent and love, for everyone, and you admire her for this, her easy acceptance, her silky personality of accepting the most fragmentary, severed hearts. 

Her beauty flows through her veins and is taken into much more definition than what people look at it as, just another pretty face, her outer beauty, her skin, features, everything, what people don’t know, is that she is pure beauty. Her heart. Her personality. Her everything. 

You are probably one of the biggest mysteries that she has encountered. Your odd actions, confusing personality and tendency to never care unless something involves the ones you love. And honestly, you think that she wants the challenge of figuring you out. 

Your emotions stay bottled up the whole walk to the park. Your face never emits red, or even slight pink blush, and although, you are very cold due to the weather, you still lend her your jacket, her accepting after you refuse to taking it back (going into such extremes she handed it to you and you threw it on the floor and kept walking). She giggled and blushed a little when she had to finally take it. “What?” you ask, confused upon her actions. 

“Oh! Nothing, its just that is such a romantic gesture in so many movies, in Japan and my country! I think it was funny you did it to me. That is all. I just certainly do not deserve your jacket when you can see the goosebumps on your arms from the cold.” she explains, and for the first time, you realize how cold you really are. She smiles at you and you consider several responses. You smile slightly back and begin to speak, "It’s not like that, well it is but -” and you realize what you said and she stops walking, you along with her. Your face skips the pink stage of blush and you can feel the heat. Your face is so red, your freckles are hardly visible. 

“Mukuro-san, do you, l-like me?”, you don’t know what to answer. Of course you like her, you care more about her than you do yourself, more about her than possibly anyone else. 

“I, I am sorry”, is all you manage

“For what, may I ask?” she questions. 

“I do like you, I have for quite a while”, you so simply, so foolishly confess, and upon her reaction, regret with every shred of life left in you and the irritation creeps back to your heart, in a different discomfort than usual. 

“Thank you, thank you for telling me, thank you for letting the pressure of me wanting to tell you how I felt off my shoulders, thank you for caring so much for me, because I feel the same way you do, please, don’t be sorry.”

You want to fall a p a r t after hearing that. The emotion that gripped your heart, is no longer pain, no longer hurting, but you feel contentment and ease upon hearing her words fall. You wish to c r y.


End file.
